


Reasons to Say No

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Harvelle's Roadhouse, Hunters & Hunting, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Minor Sarah Blake/Jo Harvelle, Nightmares, Rarely Written, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3818296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sam left, Sarah was never quite the same. Haunted by her encounter with the world of the supernatural, she goes on the road and runs into more surprises than she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reasons to Say No

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Illyrias_Acolyte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illyrias_Acolyte/gifts).



> Written for Rarely Written for Illyrias_Acolyte. 
> 
> Sarah’s such a great character and I often wonder what would have happened if she had joined the hunting life. This is what my mind came up with. Also, I like to think the song Sarah’s dancing to is No’s ‘The Long Haul.’ You’ll understand why if you watch [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4t7XuHMprk) video. 
> 
> This is set in Season 3.

She thought that Sam leaving would bring her back. Take her back to herself, to who she used to be before she met him. But they never told her that her life would never be good enough again, they never told her that she would ache deep down in her bones for something more. Crossing paths with the world of the supernatural meant one thing and one thing alone: she couldn’t go on like she had before. 

Half a year later and she packed her bags and hit the road. She had had a life and now it was gone, but she couldn’t blame Sam Winchester for it, nor his brother. Their world not only haunted her, but it called out to her and she had no option of saying no. Sam wouldn’t understand if she managed to get him on the phone, he had wanted to keep her pure and away from his world, but that hadn’t been so easy.

The nightmares were every other night, transparent hands reaching out for her, clawing at her throat. Night after night of anger and exhaustion led to an instinct kicking in where she wanted to help. She had the power, after all.

Sarah had left her father a message saying that she was going on an extended vacation to clear her head and that she didn’t know when she would be back.

It was the truth, if that made her feel any better about it.

In this new world she could die, much more easily than the last, but she could thrive like Sam and Dean too. Saving the world, in a sense. She forced herself to smile as her hands wrapped around the steering wheel, making herself be confident about it too, but the truth was that she was anything but ecstatic and confident. Sarah was more scared than she’d ever been before, she was terrified that she couldn’t possibly find her way.

The real world had been so easy, but Sam’s responsibilities were anything but. She had left everything behind: her father, her friends, the start to a successful career. She had a feeling of dread but it was more certainty than anything else: there would be no room for art and galleries and auctions in this new world she was hoping would look out for her somewhat.

Sarah wouldn’t jump into anything, that would be reckless. She would learn on her own and hopefully find others out there who would help her. She had already started out tentatively on the research part of the job; she had found something in Montana that had seemed somewhat supernatural to her. But she couldn’t help but feel that she knew absolutely nothing and that she was being foolish. Her father had already left her as many messages as how many miles she had driven so far.

It was too late to turn back and she knew it. She would just have to go about it in her own way.

* * *

 

It didn’t go about as she expected, but she picked herself up and brushed herself off and she felt all the better for it.

Yes, there had been a hunt in Bluebird, Montana and yes, she had stumbled into it so perfectly. Without practice, without knowing what the hell she was doing. Sam and Dean had taken her with them that night, and she had listened and observed with great interest and concentration without exactly realizing it then, as if she would have to do the exact same thing someday.

Sarah had put herself in this position, no one else. There _was_ no one else to blame.

She didn’t know what Sam would think of her now, bruised and bleeding and possibly sporting a dislocated shoulder. Sarah felt tired but she felt so alive too. She understood why they did what they did, despite the injuries and despite the feeling that you were giving up everything for nothing. This world wasn’t nothing though, and she wasn’t stupid enough to think it was exciting either. It was dangerous and she wasn’t anywhere near ready but she felt like a different person. She hadn’t realized all this time that she needed that, but she supposed she had Sam to thank.

The hunt hadn’t been an easy one, but she supposed none of them would be. She had tried to find traces of a ghost, but instead there had been something devouring campers in a small town. The local sheriff’s department suspected it was a wolf or a cougar, despite the fact that neither animal had been seen in the area for years. She had no resources other than her computer at her disposal. Sarah didn’t have an FBI badge or even friends to help her out, and her experience in hacking came from reading a Hacking for Dummies book two summers ago. She could call Sam and ask him to swing by, but she wanted to prove to herself that she could do this without help.

She was resourceful enough.

Unfortunately, no amount of convincing could force her to move far from her hotel room. She had enough cash to get by for a while, and her credit cards should be good for another few months before they cut off, depending on how much the hunting life cost. It wouldn’t be the life of luxury she had been accustomed to; the bedspread was stained and there was mysterious looking mold in the corner of the ceiling, not to mention the bathroom was filthy, but she spent her nights researching and her days asking people around town for any information they could give her, and it was slow work but it was satisfying too.

She was doing something really good, for once.

After the third victim she slipped on a pair of boots and trudged off into the woods, gun in hand and a knife in her back pocket. Little weapons that would hopefully be enough. Her heartbeat was thundering in her chest as she moved further into the woods. There were very few things that could rip a person apart like she had seen in the photos she had miraculously found on the internet, courtesy of her apparently better than average hacking skills. After several sleepless nights she finally settled on something called Lampia or other, it wasn’t like she could pronounce the names or even spell them half the time.

So next, ways to kill it. That hadn’t been so easy to find. A blade dipped in ram’s blood, and where the hell was she gonna find that? She had ended up just taking her chances and bringing her knife with her. Sometimes these internet sites could be wrong, it wasn’t like she could find a ram and go kill it anyway.

Sarah started to doubt her decision as she kept walking, deeper and deeper into the woods. She had a tent stuffed into her backpack just if she needed to play the role of camper, and the faint flickering of a fire she noticed up ahead and to the right told her that she was smart enough to think of that. She crept up to the fire, surveying the small campsite of three tents before making herself known.

“Hey.” A guy who couldn’t have been older than her glanced up at her and smiled.

She smiled back, moving her backpack to one shoulder. “Hey. Mind if I hang out here tonight?”

“Sure thing.” There was movement in one of the tents and she watched it nervously, chewing her lip. Maybe she should move on, but the monster thing was drawn to campers and this seemed to be the best way she would find it and kill it. Sarah suddenly felt completely out of league when she thought about saving this man’s life tonight. How could she make a difference when she felt ten times less strong than him? How could she stab this thing and make it out alive? “Plenty of food to go around, and I never turn down company.”

“Seems like you already have some,” she motioned to the tent and the man laughed. “What are you guys doing out here anyway?”

“Well, we’re not too deep into the woods, ya know. Sure, it’s dangerous, or so they claim it is, but I grew up in these woods and there’s no way they’d make me leave. My friend and his girlfriend just came out to do it under the stars, I suppose. Having music with you tends to help,” he handed her an ear bud and she sat down, placed her backpack beside her and slipped it into her ear. Country. She almost cringed. She would have to remember to find a record store somewhere and get some CDs, driving got to be really quiet after a while and it unnerved her. “What about you?”

“Night under the stars.” First kill, she couldn’t help but think. Or first _almost_ kill.

Twenty minutes later and she was brushing herself off. She had left the campsite after two songs and ventured deeper in the woods. The thing had come out of nowhere and slammed her down into the ground, making her lose her grip on the blade in her hand. Luckily, it hadn’t flown too far, and she had been able to just barely reach it as the thing leaned over her, terrible breath, sharp fangs and all. She hadn’t had time to look, bringing her hand up sharply and stabbing it until she was crushed under its full weight. With her last surge of adrenaline she had pushed it off her and felt victory.

Bruised, bleeding, limping... this was her new life now.

She couldn’t remember making it out of the woods, couldn’t remember stumbling back to her car and settling down heavily into the driver’s seat and speeding away, but the lapse in memory didn’t scare her. She stopped in an all-night liquor store, bought a bottle of whiskey while ignoring the shifty eyes of the clerk, and drove back to her motel room. Sarah popped the cap off with trembling fingers and drank to the success of her first hunt while she danced to the sound of invisible music around the room. Her own choice in music this time. The curtains weren’t drawn but she didn’t care, and she didn’t care how much her leg hurt as she danced unsteadily on her feet. She was so giddy that she almost called Sam, wanting to hear the sound of his voice, but she ended up turning her phone off and throwing it into her backpack and twirling until she spun out of control.

The dancing didn’t last all night. More than anything she wished she had someone to share it with.

* * *

 

Dean mentioned a place called the Roadhouse once, very briefly. He had never visited the place himself, just said that his father had swung by there many a time and that if she was ever in need of any help, then she should check it out. It was a far shot that it was the actual name and not just a brief description of what the place was. Her car was parked outside the stand alone building two hours after the memory resurfaced, and she knew somehow that this was the place. If she was going to survive then she was going to need help.

They could push her away, refuse to help her. They could tell her this wasn’t her life, but after the events of two nights ago, it was. This was it. Her calling, or whatever they called it. She had logged her first kill, or rather, hunt, in her new scrapbook, gluing autopsy pictures to the second card stock page, as well as an index card that listed details and tips. Maybe there wouldn’t be anymore hunts, but maybe a year from now the entire book would be filled.

Maybe she would never have kids or a family, maybe she had given that up once and for all. She didn’t care to think about it now. Sarah slipped the book into her backpack, slammed her car door shut and was already ready for a drink at three in the afternoon.

The bartender was pretty. Blonde, skinny, appearing capable enough to handle anything. Her eyebrows raised as Sarah took a seat right in front of her, and Sarah realized how much of a mess she must look. She hadn’t showered that morning and she hadn’t changed her clothes either, so she knew her hair was tangled and her clothes were torn and filthy. She was too tired to be embarrassed about her physical state though, far past the point of caring about taking care of herself now when she was gearing up for another hunt.

This... this could keep her going, even more than a drink could. This life could keep her on her feet and could keep her eyes open. She could feel alive like she _thought_ she had felt before, could feel _good_ enough.

The place was dead except for a few men playing pool in the corner, and Sarah glanced over her shoulder once or twice even though they didn’t even notice her. That was when she realized that not many women must be in the “hunting business.”

“Guess you don’t see too many women around here, huh?” She was tired enough to put her arms on the counter and lay her head upon them, but she wasn’t about to show weakness in front of the woman who was staring at her as if she was trying to determine something about Sarah.

There was a long pause as she looked Sarah up and down, but then she apparently got what she was looking for and looked away, going back to cleaning the glass in her hand. “Not too many,” the bartender admitted. She slipped a shot of what looked like tequila over to Sarah and smiled at her as she poured one for herself. “Name’s Jo.”

Sarah opened her mouth to respond but someone in the back beat her to it. “Jo!” An older woman’s voice rang out and _Jo_ took off immediately, but she was back not two minutes later, eyeing Sarah as she sipped her drink; her head was achey and she didn’t want to down it, merely wanted to let it roll over her tongue and indulge her taste buds.  

Jo’s fingers wrapped around the glass as Sarah was sipping, and Sarah slowly put it back down on the counter. “Want another?” _Sure,_ Sarah thought, _why not?_ What possible harm could it do her besides letting her sleep in the back of her car for a good few hours or so?

She wondered if they would allow that.

“Hey, mom?” Jo shouted at someone in the back, and Sarah figured it must be the woman who had stolen her attention before. “Do we have an extra room for the night?”

An older woman pulled back the curtain that Jo had disappeared behind moments earlier and walked up to the bar, drying her hands with a towel and looking Sarah over just as intently as her daughter did. What was this? Was she being judged or something? But the woman’s face turned soft as Sarah kept her face open and tried to look innocent and completely trustworthy. “You need a place to stay, honey?”

“Yeah, guess I might.” Jo had slid her another drink while this was going on and Sarah went back to slipping it slowly.

The woman slung the towel over her shoulder and came out from behind the bar, Jo following her after winking and smiling reassuringly at Sarah. If Jo was flirting with her then Sarah wasn’t going to reject her. She was ashamed to admit that she wanted the attention. She hadn’t even been alone for that long and already she felt like she’d been alone for months. That’s what the road must do to you.

“May I?” Sarah nodded and allowed Jo’s mother to examine her more closely. Her hand fell on Sarah’s shoulder, fingers palpitating her arm, and Sarah couldn’t help but pull away, wincing at the pain which she had all but forgotten about. “Let me take you to an area with more lighting and get a better look at your shoulder, kay?” Sarah nodded and practically melted right before the woman’s gentle smile, and Sarah allowed her to help her off her seat and then steer her away from the bar and down a hallway. Jo’s mother exuded home and comfort and a sense of security and acceptance that Sarah desperately needed right at that moment. She couldn’t afford to say no. “I’m Ellen by the way. Jo’s mom. Can I ask your name?”

Sarah knew she should be hesitant about handing that information out, but she wanted to throw herself in Ellen’s and Jo’s arms and they were prepared to take her anyway. What was the harm in letting go for a little while? “Sarah. Sarah Blake. But that’s...,” Sarah paused, wondering how much more she should give away. But she trusted Ellen and Jo, knew they wouldn’t hurt her or keep anything from her unless it was to protect her. “That’s who I used to be.”

Ellen’s hand was on her uninjured shoulder as she moved her slowly into a room. Her boots were caked in mud and in them her feet were probably bleeding, and Sarah desperately wanted to put her feet up and lay her head on a nice, soft pillow. “And how long ago was that?”

“A week... about. Can’t really remember.”

“That’s okay. No need to rack your brain for us. You can stay here for as long as you need.” She was encouraged to sit in a cushioned chair and Sarah sunk down in it heavily, half-watching as Ellen bustled about the room gathering what she needed. She stripped Sarah of her brown leather jacket, maneuvering her arms with such ease that Sarah knew this wasn’t the first time the woman had done this. “Jo, hon, can you set up a room for her?” That was when she realized that Jo had followed them, and Sarah’s head shot up just in time to see the bartender’s concerned face before she bolted out of the room. Sarah felt a little uncomfortable being around her mother, considering Jo was technically just flirting with her, but the uneasiness passed as Ellen focused on her shoulder, which Sarah knew needed serious attention. “How long’s your shoulder been like this?”

“Couple nights ago,” Sarah breathed through the dizziness she was currently experiencing. “Could’ve strained it more.”

“You’re a brave girl. Enduring this. Tough as nails like my daughter, huh?”

Sarah shook her head, starting to feel the dizziness pass but now feeling nauseous. “Not really.” Course, she didn’t know how tough Jo was, but behind that bar she seemed tough enough to handle anything that came in her path. Sarah wasn’t like that, she had just gotten lucky, that’s all.

Ellen crouched down beside her so Sarah could see her better, and she pushed Sarah’s long, frazzled hair back behind her ears. “Tell you what. You just sit here and let me pop your shoulder back in, then you can settle in a nice warm bed and sleep for a couple days. How’s that sound? Good?”

Good? That sounded like heaven. Ellen was talking to her slowly and surely, as if Sarah was a child, but she found that she didn’t mind at all. Ellen reminded her of her own mother before she was ripped away from her, and Sarah wanted to tell Ellen how much what she was doing meant to her, but her throat closed up and her shoulder throbbed and she was _sooo_ tired.

“You remember the last time you had something in your stomach?”

Besides whiskey and tequila?

* * *

 

After Ellen was done she slept. Apparently for three days. When she crawled out of bed she noticed that her lone suitcase was at the foot of it, and that a clean shirt and a pair of jeans were already waiting for her, draped over a chair, but she knew she had to take a shower first. She felt sticky and filthy and there was a terrible taste in her mouth that no amount of swallowing or ignoring could get rid of. Luckily, there was a bathroom in her room, equipped with any toiletry Sarah could need and plenty of soft towels. She stumbled into the shower and spent the better part of an hour rubbing her skin raw and shampooing her hair at least a half dozen times.

When she stumbled out of the shower and cleared the fog off the mirror with her hand, she was relieved to find that she still looked the same. That she still _recognized_ herself. Yet Sarah knew she wasn’t the same girl that had left home. She had changed in ways that couldn’t be seen physically.

There was a knock at the door and Sarah wrapped the towel tighter around her. “Come in.”

A wave of blonde hair came at her from the other side, and the face that poked out from beneath it made sure she was decent before stepping into the bathroom, bare feet and flimsy tank top making Sarah stare. “How are you feeling?”

Sarah found her voice somehow, and her mouth curled upward into a gracious smile. “Better. Thank you. You and your mom.”

Jo nodded. “Don’t worry about it. Come downstairs for lunch when you’re ready. Got a hamburger waiting.” She left before Sarah could accept the invitation, left before Sarah could drill her alone about whether she was a hunter, about whether this was the right place.

This was the right place though, there was no doubt about that.

* * *

 

Jo wasn’t always a bartender.

She visited her mom every couple of months when she got homesick and filled in, and then she headed out in that beat old pickup truck of hers, tracing down leads. In the span of six months she had taken down a nest of vampires, because apparently they did exist and they were _nothing_ like Twilight, one or two werewolves, some poltergeists and a particularly nasty horde of spider monsters that she described vividly to Sarah.

Sarah always listened to her stories with such anticipation of what Jo would tell her next. There they were on Jo’s breaks, sipping beers and Jo stealing fries from Sarah’s basket and sharing tales from on the road, though it was mainly Jo doing the sharing, considering Sarah only had one boring story to tell. Sarah went with her when she hit the road again, after having a week’s notice and hours of contemplation. Maybe hunting alone wasn’t the answer; it’s not like had to be. Jo was sorta new at all this too, enough to make Sarah feel easy in her own skin. So she hopped up into the passenger seat of the truck and laughed as Jo told her embarrassing stories from her childhood.

They hunted together for a few months, enough to make Sarah feel as if she was on top of the world and soaring higher. She crashed on a few hunts, they both did, but they nursed each other back to health and carried on. They had each other’s backs and it was enough. It was the best feeling in the world, to know that you trusted someone that much, to know that they trusted you too. Now Ellen didn’t just call to check in on Jo, but to check in on Sarah as well. It was a family she hadn’t expected but loved all the more.

Whenever they could they spread a blanket out under the stars and the two of them sprawled out on it, pointing out constellations.

She talked to Jo about her past life too, her art, her passion for the auctions. Jo listened with interest that wasn’t feigned, and they laughed and cried and chased each other around in the cemeteries they visited, tumbling around in the dirt and the grass like lovestruck teenagers. Sarah became strong by digging up bodies, and she became strong mentally too. She was no longer that scared, hesitant little girl that had left her life behind. Now she could stand with Jo as an equal.

Sarah did _love_ Jo Harvelle, but she was a friend before anything else.

She suspected Jo felt the same way about her; here was no hiding how inseparable they were and how Sarah always wanted to keep it that way. But sometimes Jo didn’t understand as much as Sarah thought she had earlier, didn’t understand why Sarah had left, couldn’t get into her head space.

“Why would you give that all up though? Friends, family, a _career_?” The first time she had asked that Sarah had just laughed it off, but more and more Jo became convinced that Sarah was somehow better than all this. If you stepped back a few feet then it would have looked like Jo was pushing her away.

And maybe she was. Maybe Sarah didn’t understand then, but she did later on.

“For the same reasons you left your mother.”

“Yeah, but...” Jo sighed, exasperated. “That was a dead end. You have that whole life that I’m sure is still waiting for you back there. There are people who love you and what about that whole art calling of yours?”

Sarah stared at her, more hurt than she wanted to admit. “And what about this? This calling?” Because she honestly thought that that was what this was, that hunting _was_ her calling. It felt so right being on the road and tracking down these monsters, these things that gave Sarah nightmares until she killed them. Being with Jo felt right even more so than being on her own.

“I’m just saying, Sarah. I’d feel bad about keeping you here.”

Sarah didn’t because she knew this was all on her and absolutely never ever could be on Jo Harvelle, of all people, but she still left over a week later. It just seemed like time, after that.

Jo puckered her lips out and pressed a kiss to Sarah’s lips. “Have a nice life, Sarah Blake. And don’t forget to call.”

Sarah did, for a while after, but she knew that Jo didn’t blame her when she stopped.

* * *

 

There’s that last month before she goes back to the reality she used to know. Jo hadn’t been ready to get out, hunting was in her blood after all, and maybe she never would, but Sarah finally saw her worth in Jo Harvelle’s eyes. She had done enough. And she had made a forever friend too.

In that last month she runs into a peculiar human. One with eyes that flash black in stark daylight.

Her hair was blonde too, but darker this time and straighter. The woman who was definitely not human had a snarky smile and exuded a bad ass attitude, and Sarah wondered what her story was. “You’re a hunter, aren’t you?” Her pink lips were full, and there were her curves and the smooth, elegant way in which she spoke, the words rolling off her tongue effortlessly. Sarah gripped the blade in her back pocket. If she was this easy to read then she was screwed. “I should kill you right now, you know,” the woman or really the _thing_ crossed her arms and smirked at her. “I could make it so quick, or I could draw it out. List out all your regrets,” she said that last line slowly, as if every syllable was a moment more that Sarah had her life. “Depends on your preference.”

Sarah kept her chin up even though she was trembling violently inside. “Think I’d rather live.”

“Okay.” Without a pause. With a change in heart, supposedly.

Sarah’s heart stopped and her sweaty hand slid off the blade. She threw her jacket back over it, not trying to be discreet anymore. “Okay?”

The thing with black eyes laughed, but it didn’t sound evil or demonic. Just a throaty laugh that sounded more or less human and caused Sarah to relax increment by increment. Strange. “Just giving you a way out is all.”

“Already got one,” her voice was shaky but it wasn’t like she could help it. This woman in front of her definitely wasn’t human, but she seemed kinda harmless regardless of that. Her eyes flashed black when Sarah crossed her path for amusement or probably just for attention, and Sarah guessed it worked pretty much every time. She stood up straighter and waited for any sign that she should attack. “But thanks for the offer.”

The smile was back again, she _was_ amused. “What’s your name, short bus?”

“Sarah,” she told her, point blank, just like that, for no possible reason she could think of even later.

The demon seemed to like that and she smiled wider, pearly white teeth and all. Her eyes didn’t flash back again for Sarah’s benefit or for her sanity, but Sarah didn’t question whether that was real or not. There were a lot of things in this world that were unexplainable. “Well then, Sarah. There’s a diner a couple miles away that has a basket of fries with my name on it. Care to join? Name’s Ruby, by the way.”

 _Ruby._ She kinda liked it.

Sarah shrugged inwardly and fell into step beside her, thinking that she could afford another night of uncertainty.

**FIN**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Some of Your Power](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4109569) by [Taste_of_Suburbia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia)




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